WorldMatch
by BritishTraveller
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has recently gone through a bad break up. What better way to get him out of his depressed state than to set him up for Online Dating! He soon hits it off with an attractive American doctor, but what happens when he wants to meet up with Arthur? Rated T for now; USUK with friendly FrUK.
1. Chapter 1

**The Start of It All**

Arthur Kirkland was never one for relationships. Public displays of affection made him feel physically sick and he despised how a couple could look so dreadfully happy while sticking their tongues down one another's throat. How could anyone find that socially acceptable? Arthur Kirkland certainly didn't. Now, Arthur hadn't always been a stick in a mud. On the contrary, he had been a very outgoing, romantic, lovable young man until recently after a terrible breakup with that _bitch _from down the hall. Even just seeing her mail sticking out of her post box on the ground floor of the apartment block made him want to punch a wall. _"You're so sweet, Arthur." "You're just too nice, Art." "It's not you..." "I slept with Gilbert." _God; he fucking hated her. After a year of dating the blonde bimbo, he had surprised her with champagne and red roses and had booked a table for the two at an overly expensive restaurant down town. Only, he had waited all night for her in her own apartment, and when he finally left at 11 o'clock, he found her outside snogging the hell out of some brunette tanned guy - and didn't even notice Arthur was there! She came clean the next day. It wasn't just the brunette guy, but five others Arthur had been too stupid to pick up on. And _Gilbert_ for God's sake! His own friend!

So when Arthur's other _friend _- if he could even call the blasted French man that - suggested he tried Online Dating, Arthur promptly laughed in his face and burst into tears not a second later. The 'bitch', as the pair decided to rename her, had "sucked all of the love" out of Arthur. (Quote Francis.) The 5'9" Brit was a shell of the man he used to be, and didn't even attempt to sort out his unruly blonde hair that had grown to cover his wonderfully bright green eyes on his way to work. Two months after his devastating break up, Francis had booked Arthur in for a hair cut. (He had also tried to book a spray tan, but after a swift backhander, he immediately called back to cancel.)

Arthur felt much better when he paid the barber, and surprised himself by smiling. It felt much better to feel fresh and free, and the Brit and French man went straight to the pub for a quick pint before setting up his account on **WorldMatch**. He felt his heart rate quickening as the blue background loaded and their slogan of _'Meet your_ _match online...Anywhere!'_ sped across the screen and stopped beside a moving GIF of a globe. Francis swiftly moved the mouse to the 'Sign Up' button, and rapidly typed in Arthur's information. "Your email is still KirkyK91, right?" Francis asked with a snigger, and entered it anyway. He uploaded a handsome picture of Arthur in a white shirt grinning, with a drink in his right hand and his old watch on his left, tilted to the right with a white, crooked smile. He was outdoors by the lake, sunshine lighting up his soft features. You could see his bright green eyes that were framed by thick eyebrows and long lashes, and he looked extremely cheeky in his pose. Perfect. With a charming profile that described him as, 'Bright, funny and wears matching socks,' Francis was extremely confident that Arthur would be receiving attention in no time.

Two days had passed since the account was set up, and so far Arthur had received 10 pokes. **WorldMatch** was set up so that you could view anyone's profile and see their description, but you could only communicate through pokes until the other had accepted and messaging may begin. Arthur had accepted way back that he was interested in both men and women, and fully showed that on his profile to try a bit of variety. Unfortunately, seven out of the 10 pokes he received were from women Arthur found no interest in, and even less so when he read their descriptions. The other three were men, one from Francis - supposedly to test whether it was working or not, though you never could trust the man - and the other two from men he had never seen before. One, Arthur found, was an architect working down in south London, while the other was a doctor living in the states. The second appealed to Arthur straight away, and he declined the poke from the architect faster than you could say _Mississippi Mud Pie._ Mississippi Mud Pie was, coincidentally, one of poker number two's favourite desserts.

So, after a pregnant pause, Arthur finally found the courage to have a real look at this man's online profile. "Fuck," Arthur cursed as he scrolled through, "this guy knows what he's doing..." Arthur worked in a hospital just as this mysterious man; so that was something to talk about at least. Arthur was the head nurse in his department, and knew just how straining it could be. After having a snoop around his profile, the Brit found out the man's name. Alfred. That was the guy's name; Alfred. Arthur found himself saying it over and over, blushing at how nicely the name left his pink lips.

The first time he saw this _Alfred's _picture, his heart stopped. It couldn't be him; he was too handsome! Mouth agape, the other stared at his image for a long time, just taking him all in. He, in the picture, was stood by a tall pine tree by a forest, wearing a white t-shirt with shorts and hiking boots. On his back sat a backpack and he had a jacket tied around his waist, grinning at the camera with such a dazzling smile that Arthur found himself smiling too. His face was chiseled where Arthur's was more soft, and he was taller than Arthur from what he could tell. He was a broad man with built up shoulders and Arthur knew he must be fit and energetic. The more Arthur looked at the picture, the more attractive he found the American. Tanned, sun kissed skin with golden wheat hair and blue eyes; stunning. With a dry mouth, Arthur poked him back, and hoped it wasn't a mistake.

The next day, Arthur checked his online profile. _You have 5 new pokes._ Five? Arthur was surprised and checked it. One more from Alfred! He dismissed the others (they were all boring bastards anyway) and poked him back, grinning as he did so. _You have_ _1_ _new poke. _Oh, God! He was online! Arthur yelped and blushed, waiting a minute before poking him back once more. Two minutes later and there was another message. _You have 1 new_ _poke_. By now, Arthur was grinning like a damn fool and giggled childishly as he went to make his morning cup of tea. Arthur enjoyed flirting.

Alfred and Arthur spoke everyday after their poking incident. The first day and a half were spent poking each other in turn, grins plastered on both men's faces each time. Part way through their poking match, Alfred had popped up on the site's instant messenger. _'Hey, cutie.'_ Arthur felt his heart stop. The words made his heart race and his stomach twist at the same time, and he didn't know what to do. His fingers hovered over the keys of his old laptop and it took him a few minutes to reply, but when he did, he felt himself smiling once again.

"How are you, Arthur?" Francis asked, five months after they set up his online profile. They were sat in the quaint coffee shop on the corner by the apartment block they both lived in, nursing caramel lattes in the corner booth.

"Fine. Last night's shift almost killed me." he almost laughed in response, cringing as he thought about the amount of sick and blood he had had to clean up. "...I spoke to Alfred when I got home." Francis nodded slowly at his reply and mulled it over, sipping his hot drink quietly.

"Ah, did you? This seems to be a regular occurrence, hm?" he finally said back, tilting his head slightly to the right. He buried his nose in the scarf wrapped tightly up to his chin, cold in the unheated coffee shop. It was almost as bad as being outside.

Arthur nodded and smiled shyly, "Maybe. I-It's got nothing to do with you anyway, Frog..." he said, though he smirked as he glanced up and drank his coffee. "He wants to talk on the phone."

"And what did you say?"

"Yes."

* * *

**AN/: Hey, guys! So I decided I'd take a day off lazing around on my butt to do something productive, and here came this new fic idea. It probably won't be a dreadfully long one, maybe two or three chapters? Just something quick to take my mind off exam stress. Please let me know what you guys think so far and I'd like to hear any thoughts on it so far! Thank you!**

**- BritishTraveller.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Call**

Francis watched Arthur for the rest of the week. Being above him meant he had to pass on his way down to the lobby, and they often saw each other in the mornings while collecting post when they weren't on the phone to each other or at work. The French man started to worry about his friend once he mentioned the call. This Alfred guy seemed too good to be true - who looked so perfect, had a perfect job and was so lovely, and yet was single? _Alfred _seemed a little fake to Francis, and he worried about Arthur dearly. He just hoped that they never wanted to meet and it backfired; he would be to blame for setting him up on that damn site anyway. So exactly eight days after they spoke in the cafe, Francis turned up at Arthur's door with a Chinese takeaway and a bottle of wine. "You gonna let me in?"

They spent the night laughing and joking, only having a glass of wine each, even if it was a Saturday night. Francis chose the night because he knew Arthur generally had Fridays off and spoke to Alfred mostly all day Saturday if he wasn't out. He wanted to know more about this American man that had suddenly stole his friend.

"Oh, Francis, he's so lovely, you know." Arthur smiled, twirling some Chow Mein around his fork, "He's a darling; he messages me every morning with a '_Hello, sugar.' _and every night with a '_Goodnight, sweetcheeks.'_ "I just get so excited!" he squealed and giggled, grinning as he ate his food. Francis had never seen Arthur so happy, and just like Alfred's, Arthur's smile was contagious.

"He sounds charming." He replied back, sipping the last of his wine before pouring another one, despite his earlier claims. "How much do you actually know about this guy, then? Has he sent you any pictures?" He probed, trying not to sound too much like a concerned mother. "You haven't spoken to him on the phone yet, have you?" It was like 20 questions with Francis, and Arthur raised an eyebrow as he munched on some noodles and beansprouts. "Oh, Arthur! You haven't sent him nudes have you?!"

Arthur choked on his Chinese. "You think I'd send some random guy _nudes_?!"

"You were just saying how wonderful he was, Arthur!"

"Shut up! God, you're acting like I'm still a teenager! Alfred is lovely. He's just turned 24 and is a doctor in Dallas. He _has_ sent me pictures, thank you very much. All very handsome ones at that. Alfred lives on his own and has been thinking of buying a kitten for some time, apparently. He loves to travel, Francis; just like I do! He's forever doing road-trips and loves movies: action are his favourites! He doesn't read as much as I do but he loves Harry Potter and all that, and I love the way he types and, and-" Arthur had gotten so excited he had dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter, yelping at the noise. "...Sorry. Gosh, he's just... He's so lovely, Fran."

* * *

As soon as Francis arose the next morning, he got his daily coffee and he woke his computer up, logging into **WorldMatch **to search for this _Alfred Franklin Jones_. Aha! He found him. Francis hummed as he looked through the information again, and his eyes went wide as he re-read Alfred's current relationship status. _In a relationship._

"Arthur! Arthur, open this door right now!"

Francis was down at his door like a shot, banging loudly. "Arthur!" Said Brit opened the door with a growl, tiredness evident on his face.

"What?" He spat, "Do you realise it is six in the morning? On a _Sunday_?"

"Alfred's in a relationship."

Arthur frowned and his mouth went dry, looking at the other curiously. "What do you mean..?" He opened the door a little wider to let the man in, still wary as Francis stormed to the Brit's open laptop on the coffee table. He plopped down on the sofa and loaded up the profile, pointing to it furiously as Arthur stood next to him.

"Look! There, Alfred Franklin Jones. Status, in a relationship. Arthur, I don't know what's going on, but this doesn't look good."

He could see the other's expression fade into something unreadable, and the Brit slunk down onto the couch beside him, leaning forward and tilting his laptop to read it better. Fuck; he was right. "N-no, but... we talk every night! We do, Francis! He said he liked me! We were going to talk for the first time... I was going to hear his voice-" The Frenchman immediately regretted opening his stupid French mouth and stayed quiet, watching him out of concerned cerulean eyes. It shocked him when Arthur pulled the laptop onto his lap and began to type quickly and furiously, fingers flying over the keys so quick he thought they would start sparking. He was typing him a message; confronting him. "He's read it." He said softly, and Francis could hear the strain in his voice and the lump in his throat.

'_What do you mean, baby?' _Alfred typed. _'That relationship is with you... If you'll have me.'_

Francis felt his poker face return and looked to Arthur, who was welling up like the bloody soft puppy he was. "Oh, what a darling!" He exclaimed, "Look, Fran!" The excitement began to turn into anxiousness once Arthur's phone vibrated, and he sat frozen. _**Alfred Calling**_ his screen read, Arthur suddenly breaking out into a grin as he held the vibrating object in his soft hands; "It's him, Fran! It's Alfred! Oh, God-!"

He swiftly swiped the screen and his breath hitched when it connected him to someone else, silence on the other end until he heard breathing. "H-Hey, babydoll. It- It's nice ta' finally speak to ya, huh?" The southern drawl was evident as it flooded through the speakers, making Arthur's knees go weak.

"...Hi, Al." He managed to squeak out, blushing as he looked at Francis with big eyes. The Frenchman had a soft smile on his face and could hear everything, the sound on the phone loud enough. "Y-yeah, it's nice to hear your voice-"

"Oh, Gawd. You sound perfect, sugar." Alfred said back, grin evident even through the speaker, "I never thought ya'd sound so... British, ya'no? I love it!" He laughed. A deep, rumbling noise that travelled so wonderfully though the speakers that Arthur wanted to moan at the sound of it.

Of course, Francis didn't leave. Not just yet. He was almost like Arthur's chaperon, insisting he was there after he 'got him into this'. Really he was just being nosy. "Your laugh... It- It's wonderful."

"Hah! Wonderful, I ain't never heard that one before!" Alfred answered, "I usually get 'Oh Gawd Alfie, ya' laughin' too loud!'" He laughed at that too, and his bubbly attitude sent goosebumps up Arthur's arms. "Hey now, why ya' so quiet, darlin'? I've looked forward to talkin' to ya'..." He knew he was making Arthur blush and loved it, sat in his office chair in his mostly empty house as he heard Arthur stumble so sweetly over his words. "Okay, darlin'. I don't wanna cut it short but I gotta do an op tomorrow so I gotta be on the ball! At least I can just replay your voice over in my head, huh? Okay, sweetcheeks. Yeah; talk to you soon, baby. Alright. G'night!"

Arthur ended the call with a smile, putting his phone down as he turned and hugged Francis instinctively. "Did you hear him, Fran?! Oh wow, he sounded so gorgeous-" he gasped, "W-we're dating now! Francis! I have a boyfriend!"

Francis wasn't so sure. Everything seemed so dreadfully suspicious, and the guy didn't sound 24. More like 14 with the way he spoke and 44 the way he used 'sugar' and 'sweetcheeks'. No, there was definitely something off about this Alfred, and Francis decided he would just have to probe a little more.

* * *

**AN:/ Hey! So here's chapter two up. I wrote this at one in the morning cause I was too giddy to stop! Please leave a review to tell me what you think; any ideas on what Francis will do? Is Alfred as legit as he makes out to be? **

**I don't know either. I'll get started on chapter three later so we can all find out. ;)**

**As always, thanks for reading and stay safe!**

**-BritishTraveller.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Talks**

* * *

_You have 1 new message._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 5th 2014. 11:02 a.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Hey, sweetheart! Hope you're all well and good. I'm missin ya real bad, doll. I got a big op goin on later today; hip replacement. Probably gonna be about 2 hours - she's really old, bless her heart. How's your work? Bet you look fuckin smokin in your nurses scrubs. ;) Can't wait to talk. Will message you later, baby. Miss you. AJ x_**

* * *

_You have 2 new messages._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 5th 2014. 2:34 p.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Babydoll? Huh. Guess you never read my last message. Just wanted you to know the surgery went well. Guess you're real busy so I'll message you later. Love you. AJ x_**

* * *

_You have 3 new messages._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 6th 2014. 05:00 a.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Uh, hey, Artie. Where are ya? I've missed you so much :( You never came on last night; everything okay? Has something happened? Oh, God. Please be okay! I love you. I'll try callin you when I've finished my shift. AJ x_**

* * *

_You have 4 new messages._

_Alfred Fredrick Jones. June 6th 2014. 05:05 a.m. Dallas, Texas. USA._

**_Please reply._**

* * *

Alfred rang Arthur's phone for what seemed like the 100th time that day, anxiously waiting for someone, anyone, to pick up. Eventually, after the 19th call, he got through. "Uh, hello?" A rough sounding voice came through the speaker, and Alfred raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Um, Art? Is that you, doll?" He asked slowly and gently, hiding in the broom cupboard at work. The janitor gave him a weird look when he entered the closet and shut the door behind him, but shrugged it off and started work on fixing that damn broken bulb in the men's staff toilets.

"_Alfred?_" came the voice again, and it sounded surprised this time. "Al, what the hell are you doing? This must be costing you a fortune! Why're you ringing so early?" He heard a yawn and was even more confused.

"...Arthur, it's 2 p.m your time. Shouldn't you be at work?"

"_Shit." _Alfred listened as Arthur threw his mobile phone on the bed, cursing like a sailor as he looked for his clothes and a brush. "_Fuck fuck fuck!_" Alfred chuckled down the phone and sighed, running a sweaty palm over his face in relief. At least the Brit was okay, even if he was late for work. He heard him scramble back for the phone and smiled. "Shit... Sorry, Al but I gotta go. My power's down so my alarm never went off- I have to go to work; call you back later, yeah? Bye!"

And with that, he put down the phone. Leaving Alfred with an 'I love you' on his lips and a frown on his face. So that's why he never replied... Fuck, he genuinely thought he'd screwed up somehow and told Arthur the truth. Oh, God. Why didn't he just tell him in the first place? Would it really matter anyway? Maybe not, but it still made Alfred's heart ache and he didn't know when or where he could tell the other without him ending things. Cursing, the American slid his phone into his coat pocket and signed out in the staff room, going home to get in bed after a long day.

At the same time Alfred had flopped onto his bed, Arthur was bursting through the hospital doors, running towards the staffroom to get his stuff in the locker and start his shift. He dressed quickly and balled his regular clothes into his locker, switching into his scrubs and washing his hands after he signed in, handwriting messy due to his tiredness. He was caught by his supervisor just as he grabbed a quick coffee and groaned - he had to stay later tonight to make up for the few hours he missed. He didn't mind really; it gave him time to reflect on this relationship with Alfred and where it was going, how it'd work with them being so far away and how to handle the time differences. Texas was around 6 hours behind the UK, so it was hard to catch each other sometimes. Mulling over his thoughts over the day, Arthur found himself smiling every time he pictured that grinning, cheeky face. Ah, yeah. Arthur was in love.

Alfred felt sick. Sick, sick, sick. He had been in bed everyday for three days, and Arthur kept him company when he wasn't working or with this Francis guy. His muscles ached to fuck and he had a headache. He didn't want to get up; he didn't want to move. He felt like shit and like he was about to vomit any minute. He put it down to that kid he treated the other day quickly while the other doctors were busy. "Fuckin' kid had chicken pox, didn't he?" Alfred groaned as he buried himself deeper into the duvet, trying not to scratch his skin. Alfred had never had chicken pox as a child, and to get it at 24 was... well, it made him feel like crap. All he wanted to do was shut that fucking radio off in the corner of his bedroom blasting out John Legend or someone or other, singing about devotion and love and it just made Alfred angry. "Just shut up!" He growled, throwing his pillow at the bloody thing only for it to turn up. "Oh, fuck me." He sighed, getting his iPhone out and lazily scrolling through apps after he cancelled the rest of the week's shifts at the hospital. Attention back on his phone, Alfred had a gander at Facebook and Twitter before realising nothing was going on in the community that he was remotely bothered about. Someone was going to New York on holiday. Someone else just got a bonus at work. Someone else's pet goldfish just died. His cousin just lost her job. Oh, and his old college buddies were having a meet up. Rolling his tired eyes, the man decided to check the CNN app, which was just as dreary. Talking about Obama and some other shit he didn't give a hoot in hell about right now. Huffing, he exited and did another look through his apps, noticing something. A red box with a number 2 in had appeared next to the world icon for the popular **WorldMatch** app, signalling he had 2 new notifications on it. Curiously, he pressed it with his thumb, grinning as he saw one new message and a poke, both from Arthur.

_You have 1 new message._

_Arthur Kirkland. June 6th 2014. 5:36 p.m. Manchester, United Kingdom. _

**_Hello, Alfred. How you handling the chickenpox, eh? I hope you haven't been in work spreading your germs! You know how fast they travel, doctor. ;)  
...Anway, I'm on a quick break. I have to work for a few more hours 'cause we're short on staff so I've had to be transferred to the maternity ward. Just having a quick tea in the cafeteria before I'm back on. Miss you. Hope you are okay. Stay snuggled up, okay love? Speak soon. x_**

_ATTACHMENT._

Alfred smiled through the message and climbed out of bed, making himself a hot drink as he read, hip resting against the counter. Opening the attachment, the older man beamed brightly and scratched his arm as he looked at Arthur's blushing face as he held a polystyrene cup of tea. Alfred was right, he concluded. Arthur did look pretty hot in his scrubs.

In response, Alfred took a selfie of himself looking very tired with scabs over his face and chest, clad only in his boxers. The spots trailed in clusters down his torso and he had patches over his whole body, some even near his crotch! Ugh. They dotted his forehead and cheeks, although most of the visible spots were on his chest and arms. The kitchen behind him was beautiful, but he stood out due to his muscular body covered in red dots and pink marks where he'd been scratching. Not even three minutes later and his cell was ringing; Arthur. He found himself smiling once again and realised that, despite his chicken pox, he hadn't been this happy in a long time. As he answered the phone to a worried Englishman, the Dallas native realised something: He was in love. He was in love, and he had never felt so good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Vacations, Vacations**

"Hey, Artie. Guess what? I'm going on vacation!" Alfred announced one day over the phone, his smile evident even through the speaker. He sounded excited, and Arthur was happy for him.

"Oh, that's great, Alfred. Where are you going this time? Aruba? Jamaica?" The other enquired, laughing.

"Ooh I wanna take ya', Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama..." Alfred laughed back, a deep chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "Nah, I _am_ going to the Florida Keys though! Might have ta have a trip down to Kokomo afterall." The Texan began to sing the rest of their song, stopping half way though. "Hey, why don't you come? It'll be so fun! I just managed to get some time off work for two weeks-"

Arthur stopped him. "Go with you? To Florida?" He asked like the other had gone mad, "Alfred, I've never been to America in my whole life! I.. I can't just go and meet a stranger. No offence, but you know how weird it will sound at immigration when they ask who I'm meeting and I reply with, 'Oh, some guy I met on the internet.'"

"Yah, I know." Alfred replied sadly, scratching the back of his neck. "Jus' would'a been nice, yano?" Getting up from his dinner table, he put his bowl of cereal in the sink, back resting against the kitchen counter as he listened to Arthur's voice. God, he was such a sucker for his accent. Even if he were listening to him yell he would probably still swoon. But he was rambling now... "Mmhm. Yeah. Yup. Yesss. Okay, okay." He yawned and rolled his eyes, smirking and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He laughed again, enjoying winding Arthur up as the other blushed and got frustrated. Lying in bed still, Arthur rolled onto his side and began to smile, scolding him though he didn't mean it.

"You're such an arsehole." He said, laughing at the other's mock gasp. "Right, I've gotta go. I need a shower and then I'm on a late shift so I'll talk to you later."

Alfred grinned cheekily. "Send me pics?"

"Goodbye, Alfred."

"Aww.."

* * *

Arriving at work at 2 pm, Arthur trudged through to the unit he worked in, washing his hands first thing before he entered and again after. "Afternoon." He greeted the other nurses, taking a look around the ICU. His patient was still there, anyway. Sending a quick thank you up to whatever being had kept her in a stable condition, he made his way over to the woman, her husband perched in a chair beside her bed. Every time Arthur came to check on her he was there, never leaving her side except for a quick cigarette. And even then he would kiss her head and tell her he would only be a few minutes, even though she was in a coma. Though they weren't sure if she could hear them, they still acted as though she could, and Arthur smiled at the gent who was holding her had. "Hi, Mr Lewis. Just coming to check up on Amanda; I see her heart rate and blood pressure are steady." He took a look at the machines and then grabbed the small hand held light, shining it in her eyes and sighing when he gained no response. "I'm just going to turn you over, sweetheart." He told the young woman, gently shifting her to her side. Her husband looked so lost, eyes vacant and yet full of love for the brunette on the bed. Arthur hated that look. It was hard for anyone in the department when a new patient came in, and just as hard for the patient's family, but when it wasn't getting any better it made the nurses feel like they weren't quite doing their job up to scratch.

Mr Lewis stayed with his wife for the rest of the afternoon, a few stitches on the side of his head and scratches over his body. They'd been in a horrible accident, and his wife suffered the blunt of it. She'd been unconscious since she came in a week ago. "Go grab a coffee, Mr Lewis. I promise I'll look after Amanda until you get back." Fuck; there. He'd done it - broken one of the nurse rules: never make any promises. What if something happened to her-? "Honestly, Sir. You must be knackered. Your wife is in good hands here."

Amanda passed away at 5:41 pm under Arthur's watch, just half an hour after her husband left to nip home. "You promised." Was the first thing her husband said to the blond nurse after driving straight back, "If I'd have stayed a little longer, I- I could have-!"

There was nothing anyone could have done, and Arthur knew that. But he still couldn't help but feel guilt for letting such a young girl pass. She wasn't able to function, not with the damage done to her head from the accident. Arthur shed a few tears when he entered the staff room, knowing he shouldn't get so attached and feel so guilty. The first thing he did was call Alfred, breathing shaky until he answered. "..I need a bloody holiday." He said with a bitter laugh.

* * *

After booking the next few days off work, Arthur felt instantly better. He relaxed in his bathtub, only getting out an hour later and smelling of grapefruit. He spoke with Alfred while lying in bed, being put on speaker while the American packed his bags for his trip to the sunny Florida Keys. He even met with Francis and the man's friends, going out for a drink at the local pub where he witnessed one man get punched square on the nose for offering to show a woman a good night. They all found it hilarious, the man returning in a shoddy state. "So, how's the love life going?" Francis asked with a turn of the head, ignoring the rest of the group at the table. "It's been 10 months since you started talking. Please tell me you've sent at least one nude."

"H-hey! You were against sending naked pictures last time!"

"Ah, no. I was against _you_ sending naked pictures last time. I enjoy it."

"I bloody know you do. If I get one more Snapchat of your cock and balls I'll be removing them myself." He retorted, taking a gulp of his beer.

"That was _one time_!"

Arthur looked at him. "Make that seven."

"Your name is next to hers! I bet you liked them though..." Francis replied with a wink, downing the rest of his pint and setting the glass down as Arthur gagged.

"You can get your head out of your arse if you think I find your cock attractive. Come on, Fran; you can at least angle it so it looks bigger! And you need to work out. Imagine how many more guys and girls you could get with a six pack. You've got some serious sagging of your balls too, mate." Arthur laughed until his throat hurt; he loved to tease him, just as Alfred did to him. It was funny seeing Francis get so red in the face, instinctively going to check he didn't have loose balls. "Jeez, Francis! At least have a little bit of dignity and check it out in the bathroom. Christ..." The look on his face was priceless as he scurried off to check himself out in the bathrooms.

No more than five minutes later had Arthur received a new Snapchat from the Frenchman, this one taken from the front and a little down so you could see his toned stomach. How the bleedin' hell had he gotten an erection that quick?! It pressed against his stomach like a proud soldier and made Arthur gag, screen-capturing it as he laughed and showed the others at the table. Shame; he'd set it for the full 10 seconds too! The clearly agitated Frenchman came over not moments later, jaw set firmly as he plopped back down on his stool. "You'd better not show anyone that, Rosbif."

Except he had, and the rest of the table were already prepared. "Ey' up, Fran; how's Jr doin'? Didn't know he worked as a royal guard now!" One of their friends joked.

"Ah yeah, lookin' after them crown jewels, weren't he?"

"Aye! You got a nice 'un, mate. Just keep it away from those dingy toilets, yeah?" The others piped up, all laughing as Francis hit his head on the wooden table, whining with a ruby red face. Arthur didn't think he'd had this much fun in ages.

* * *

**AN/: Hey guys! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in ages but I've been on holiday and exams and etc, plus family things, but I swear I'm looking to update this and OLS more! (It's been almost a year since I last updated OLS!) **

**I also need your advice - I'm thinking of making this M Rated; how many of you would continue to read if I did and how many wouldn't? Just wondering!**

**By the way, the song Arthur and Alfred were singing was a great song called Kokomo by the Beach Boys.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-BritishTraveller**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sexts and Kisses**

Arthur Kirkland never enjoyed phone sex. It was similar to his hate of online dating, except he hated phone sex worse. It was the sheer and utter embarrassment that came from telling your partner how you were feeling right at that moment, a permanent blush on his cheeks as he told the other person how his groin ached and how his chest was heaving. It was just so awkward.

So when Alfred rang him one day, breathing heavy and the slapping of skin resounding through the speaker, Arthur couldn't help but squeak and put the phone immediately down.

Needless to say , not a minute later and his phone was ringing again, the familiar tone ringing and ringing until Arthur finally gained the courage to pick up, answering with a "H-Hello?"

He was shitting himself. What would he say? Hey, why were you wanking off on the phone? No, that wouldn't do. That was way too blunt.

"A-Artie, shit, I'm sorry-! I- I thought ya' wanted to have phone sex?" Came Alfred's voice, wavering from nervousness as he waited for Arthur to reply.

"I- We never disclosed a date, Alfred! You- you can't just go ringing people off while wanking off! You've got to at least sound like you aren't and then work to it. Bloody hell, you have the charms but not the brains, do you?"

"No need to be an ass. Ha, ass. I'd so fuck yours right now…" Alfred moaned, whining as he tried not to let Arthur know he was touching himself. Those damn speakers picked up everything!

"…You're still doing it, aren't you?"

"…Maybe."

"Ugh!" Arthur huffed and lay on the sofa, the droning of BBC News 24 making his head feel numb. He turned the volume down just as the weather girl came on, dressed in some God awful dress that didn't flatter her one bit. "Right, fine. Hm, c'mon then. We'll start from the beginning, I, uh, guess." He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, sighing as he heard Alfred too shift.

The Brit didn't really know what to do. Should he literally just tell him anything or was he supposed to act all sexy and accent each word with a husky voice like in the movies? Ugh, he just didn't know. But Alfred certainly did. "Okay. Come on, sugar. It's okay… Okay, mm, what are you wearing?"

Really? "Um, my- my white shirt and boxers.." He replied, fidgeting already as he looked down at his pale thighs and lightly haired calves.

"Okay. So, if I were there, d'ya know what I'd do? I'd lean over you and kiss you gently and then all at once, my hands running over your chest and slowly unbuttonin' your shirt, placin' gentle kisses down your neck. Would ya like that? An' then I'd go and gently rub over your nipples, kissing down your chest and slowly sucking them..." God, his words sent shivers down his back. But he refused to let himself get so easily flustered, just humming down the phone to him. "Come on, take off your shirt. I want ya to touch ya like I want to." And there were the goosebumps; they made his arms prickly and tense, and the Mancunian hadn't realised he had stopped breathing until he exhaled. He gave an okay in response and held the phone between his neck and jaw, resting it there while he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, just like Alfred had described.

"O-Okay. Now what?"

"Now, I want ya to run your hands down your chest. Not too fast, now. Just run the tips of your fingers over your nipples and tease 'em a bit, yano… An' then close your eyes. Jus' think'a me while I talk to you, yeah? Okay. So I'm teasing your nipples… And then I go to your stomach, placing little kisses down it and down your navel until I reach your pants. I'd unbuckle it swiftly, contemplating whether to tie your hands together with it but deciding not to, throwing it into a far corner of the room." Alfred took a breather then, his own palm slowly stroking his member as he spoke, eyes firmly shut with images of himself touching Arthur for the first time. God, he'd be beautiful. He imagined him smelling of grapefruit and limes, or maybe even lemons. "…With the quickest of fingers I'd pull down your boxers, your hands fiddling with my own as you tried to pull them down and get a glimpse of my cock. Oh, I'd make you into such a little whore, Arthur. I'd have you begging for me within minutes."

"H-hey now, don't get too full of yourself-"

"Are you touching yourself? God, ya don't half make this hard, Artie. C'mon, do it." Groaning, the American took a deep breath and rubbed his thumb over the head, fingernail just dipping into the slit as he gasped and heard Arthur's little whines and moans from his own hand, just lightly touching himself. "Oh, man… You'd be so gorgeous, withering there under my palm as I stroked you and myself, rubbing our cocks together in sync. Wouldn't you like that, Artie? Being so dirty and naughty, hot kisses passed between us as I pushed my tongue in your mouth and ran it over your gums. Ohh, fuck- mmh, I can't wait to fuck you, Arthur Kirkland. So fuckin' fast and rough and so Texan; oh, baby."

He couldn't stop now, endless little dirty words escaping him. It was too easy to slip into such an act, his voice seeming huskier and accent thicker with each word that he spoke. It was like being fluent in sex talk, so easy to roll of the tongue with the images clouding Alfred's vision. Arthur wasn't saying much yet, but he could hear him gulp like he wanted to, as though he wanted to join in and tell his overseas lover exactly what he would do to him in such a situation. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, mmh-" His hand slid so wonderfully over his erect cock that he couldn't help but keen and groan with each movement up and down, Arthur gasping with his breath quickening. Alfred managed just a few more words about how he'd take him when he came over the edge, climaxing with a shortness of breath and a whisper of Arthur's sweet name, cum pooling over his large fingers. "Fuckin' Christ, man. Oh, wow. D-Did you come? That was amazing…" He chuckled deeply, grabbing a tissue from the other couch cushion and wiping his hand, just managing to catch his breath as Arthur too laughed down the speaker, having come himself.

Correction, Arthur Kirkland never enjoyed phone sex.

…Unless it was with Alfred Jones.

* * *

**AN/: Hi guys, just wanted to say thank you for reading and that I'm sorry for the blatant porn and no warning, just in case you didn't want to read it. Also, if you haven't noticed the rating has been upgraded to M from T, just for the fact that this chapter was in it and that there may be some more a little further on. Thank you! Any reviews and opinions would be greatly appreciated. **

**- BritishTraveller.**


End file.
